Checkmate
by iviscrit
Summary: During Christmas break, a letter and some brotherly nudging from Malcolm prompt Minerva McGonagall to visit Hogwarts as a new alumnus. She interrupts a chess game and the very person she wanted to see. Sexual tension and sibling cuteness each make an appearance, but not in that order and in a decidedly unrelated fashion. For Sachita. TMR/MM. R&Ring is love.


For Sachita, the best friend I have made through the art of fanfiction. I hope you like it!

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Jan. 13, 1944

_Minerva-_

_Not quite sure what you mean by your implication of my 'conquests.' I have several, yes, but I don't think they're in the manner you've insinuated. Mine are decidedly oriented towards my academics, my research, and my ever-increasing clout. You of all people know the caliber of people in my year. I would rather endure detention with your beloved Dumbledore than suffer the company of a certain Miss Carrow. _

_I do enjoy the badge and the privileges that come with it but (it pains me to write this) prefect meetings are not the same. More mortifying is the fact that I miss our patrols together. The badge is hardly a substitute for them. Thanks for returning the rook, also. I do prefer my set complete._

_You can pretend I inquired after your family and cats and answer these pretend social graces as you see fit; I am in no mood to waste paper and ink on such trivialities that are better dealt with face to face. Have you secured the internship you wrote of in your first letter? Slughorn may fix it so that I can spend my final summer at Hogwarts. _

_Reply if you like. It's how I operate and it has worked well thus far. _

_T_

Minerva smiled at the letter, perplexed. "Malcolm," she called, "I want a boy opinion."

"So then you're qualified, what do you need me for?" Her younger brother poked his head into the kitchen, his black hair standing up from his flight over the moors.

She rolled her eyes. "Don't be an insipid, immature, intolerably insolent imp."

"Nicely done."

"Thank you." She proffered the letter. "Does he want to see me again? He didn't care to reply to my letters over the summer, he barely wrote me in the fall, and now he suddenly sends this."

"Maybe he was busy with NEWT level courses and hasn't graduated yet?" Malcolm said as he read through, bored. "This is from Tom Riddle? There's no proper signature."

"He's tremendously impersonal sometimes."

"Have you both hooked up in a broom cupboard or something during 'patrol' for him to miss them so much?"

Minerva smacked him with her wand. "If by 'hook up' you mean 'engaging conversation' then yes." She paused. "And there was that one time when we got into Slughorn's stash of firewhisky with the other prefects.. I don't recall too much of that evening, but he was a bit more playful than I've seen him.."

"I have so much to blackmail you with when you inevitably piss me off," Malcolm said happily, snickering as she jumped up from her seat. "Mum is going to _love_ hearing about this. But you both never dated? Hell, Min, people were asking _me _about the status of your relationship at one point last year-"

"Stop being an ass and just do what you were called here for," Minerva said, feeling her face heat.

"It's my duty as your little brother," Malcolm said sweetly. "You gave me hell about Penelope anyway, remember?"

"You're not a girl so you didn't get it at the time," Minerva said dismissively. "You _thanked_ me later, or did you conveniently forget that bit?"

"Yes, he wants you," he announced, ignoring her question. "Glad we cleared that up," he added, tossing her the letter.

"I doubt that," she said, rolling her eyes. "Does he want me to _visit_?"

"Minerva, this is why we can't tolerate women," Malcolm said, dropping into the chair next to her and slinging his arm over her shoulder. "He likes you. He all but told you that without you there aren't any girls he's interested in at Hogwarts. You're out of Hogwarts. He can't ask for your company without looking clingy, and girls don't like clingy men. Don't play naive. I've seen how you behave around him, too."

"You're boys, not _men,_" Minerva said. "But does he-"

"Yes!" He smacked the base of her skull. "You're visiting a week after the spring term resumes, right? Just go now and surprise him. But don't brief me on how you both 'caught up' when you get back…"

"You're the worst."

"It's in the job description." He smiled sweetly, and for a moment she saw him as a little boy discovering his magic for the first time, rather than the lanky teenager he had become.

Minerva hugged him, kissing his hair. "When did you become my confidante?"

"Since you started snogging boys and decided you couldn't tell Mum _everything._"

She laughed and ruffled his hair as she stood. "Thanks, Malcolm."

"Wait, Min-"

"Yes?"

"Does he still play chess?"

Minerva frowned. "I'd imagine so?"

"He's already put himself in check." Malcolm jerked his head towards the letter. "You're way too good a chess player to pass this up. He's already made it easy for you to close the game."

She frowned. "Maybe I'll… maybe I'll throw this game, then. It wouldn't be the first time."

* * *

The halls of Hogwarts were well-lit, and Minerva's pace was leisurely now that she could visit as an alumnus freed of the student anxiety to get to class on time. She had enjoyed her visit with Dumbledore thoroughly, and the idea of working under hm for the spring term impressed upon her a sense of delight that seemed impossible to shake. Consequently her expression was radiant with residual happiness, and she didn't think her smile could possibly grow any brighter. Naturally, she was wrong.

Her wanderings led her to the window seat on the fourth floor, a cozy enclave she had frequented during her senior year at Hogwarts, separated from the lounge-like study area it was part of by strategic placement of couches and chairs. The heavy drapery was pulled back from the window, and to her surprise she found whom she had been looking for.

"Tom?"

Tom Riddle's head snapped up and for a moment his face was transformed by a wide smile of boyish happiness. It didn't escape the notice of his assembled friends, nor did it escape Minerva's, but she was too pleasantly surprised to pay it much thought. Her steps quickly accelerated and in a moment she was before him, her eyes twinkling and her arms extended.

"My god, I've missed you," she said as he rose after a moment's hesitation, pulling her into a tight embrace. His chin rested atop her head and she smiled into his chest, remembering how much she enjoyed the height difference. She dropped her arms after a minute, ready to pull back. "Planning on letting me go any time soon?" she teased.

"No," he said lightly, and claimed his seat again, pulling her down with him. He kept a firm hold of her, perching on his knee with her legs across his lap, one arm wrapped around her waist and his long-fingered hand on her hip.

Minerva patted his cheek. "Glad to see my time spent missing you was mutual."

"I had no time to miss you," Tom said dismissively. "Quite a few Very Important Things demanded my attention for the past few months," he said, but the way his eyes drank in the sight of her face hardly gave his words weight.

"Fine. So how was the semester?"

"As ever," he said. "Nothing too challenging, and being Head Boy is more of a time suck than a difficulty." His attention appeared to be absorbed by the game of chess Dolohov and Rosier were playing, and Minerva was left to amuse herself for a few awkward minutes from her seat atop his lap. The game was poor, and she observed that from the way the board lay Dolohov could close the game in a matter of minutes. She counted eight moves to checkmate, and wondered at Tom's apparent fascination at a decidedly boring game. He was frowning, but still silent. She sighed.

"If you're trying to get my attention it isn't working," he said, looking pointedly at the board. "Antonin, you want to castle now." Dolohov looked at him quizzically. "Don't question me."

Dolohov acquiesced and Minerva nodded at the play, frowning all the same. She suddenly felt uneasy, and the looks of curiousity and mild amusement Tom's friends were giving her were largely the cause for her discomfort.

"So I'll be here for-"

"Shhh," Tom murmured, taking her jaw in his spare hand and covering her mouth. "Wait a bit, Minerva." He held her eyes a moment, but again dropped them to the board, giving Dolohov yet another order.

"At this rate you may as well play for him," she observed drily, earning her a chuckle or two from the other boys assembled. Tom still ignored her, thought his fingers absentmindedly played with the fabric of her skirt at her hip, filling Minerva with a rush of indignation and excitement. Still, humoring him felt wrong in this context. "Could you stop that?" She grasped the back of his neck, smiling sweetly when he tensed. "I'm probably cutting off your circulation. Let me find a better seat."

"I'm fine, and you seem comfortable enough," he returned, pulling her closer to the point that she was flush against him, his temple at her cheek as he still pointedly ignored her eyes.

Minerva withdrew her hand and braced it on the back of his armchair, perplexed. The cozy window seat seemed stifling now and she felt herself blushing. She cast around her mind for a retort as Tom took her hand and entwined his fingers with hers. "Rook to C8," Tom said, this time to Rosier.

"Dolohov, move your king to D2," Minerva said, taking hold of Tom's hand that rested on her hip and stilling the fingers with a gentle squeeze. He looked her at last, a question in his eyes.

"After Rosier makes his next play move your bishop to A6," Tom said at last, looking at Minerva rather than Dolohov.

"Rosier, if I were you I'd move your king, then," Minerva said.

"D7?" She nodded.

The game became infinitely more interesting as she and Tom played by proxy, often advising both boys rather than each taking the side of one. The pieces mounted up as the game progressed and Minerva wondered at Tom's silence to her.

"I think that's checkmate, Antonin," Tom said after some time.

"No," Minerva said. "Dolohov, F7. Rosier, bishop to B5." She pulled extricated her hand from Tom's fingers. "_That_'s checkmate."

Tom looked at her, and she at him, his hand now resting on her knee. "It was more or less over at that point anyway," he said.

"Yes, but it wasn't _over._" They regarded one another a bit longer, letting the silence settle over them.

"You both confuse me," Rosier said at last, breaking the silence.

"Well," Tom said, lazily flicking his wand and sending the bishop to its new position, "we can hardly help it if you're lousy at chess. Now, Minerva?"

"Yes," she said, mirroring the smile he gave her. "Checkmate."

FIN

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**A/N: I'm back! Stay tuned for an update. And if you're following my other chaptered work, I'm working on an update for that as well!**

**The chess game is very loosely based off of Zukertort and Rosenthal's game. I am woefully inept at chess, but I wanted legitimate moves in the story just in case any of you are prodigies. ;) **

**Sachita, I hope you liked it. All my best to you!**


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